Listen
Listen well; I’m going to say this only once

I am headed north, up the reserve
Well through the cold winter underbrush
It is that time of year. It’s harsh
Don’t worry, I left a thing behind
Whoever sees it, they won’t get lost

Believe me
Believe the words coming out of my mouth
I’m arriving at their most guarded place
I can hear them. They are everywhere. I can feel them.
I’m close. And yet, they can’t see me
I’m at their blind spot

Remember
Remember the last time your mother caresses your hair
Hold on to that, you will need it
Perhaps you can’t, and that’s fine
But as fine bead run down the sides of your temple
For once, it may be best to not close your eyes

Now follow
Follow the tinny sounds of the bells
Their desires are pure, why can’t ours be?
On any moment, any tick, any instant

SNAP!

Guess who will be the ones wishing for salvation

Surely we’d have some idea by now
There is surely something to make out of this
What is it? Why aren’t we curious?
But that’s fine

Because to question isn’t always to understand